


SASO2016 Fills: Oofuri Edition

by putsch



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Gen, Holding Hands, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Past Abuse, Second-Hand Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9334508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/putsch/pseuds/putsch
Summary: All my fanfic fills from SASO 2016 for Oofuri!Some of these are reposts from my old SASO posts, and check the chapters for each pairing/rating/prompt!





	1. mihashi & haruna - room for one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruna/Mihashi: Remember when this town wasn't big enough for the two of us?

They say a lot of things about Haruna, but Mihashi knows that Haruna-san really is a nice person.

They exchange numbers after their autumn game, and while Mihashi tends to get too busy (or too nervous, what does he even say to someone as cool as Haruna-san?) to text him, it's still nice to have it.

He tries to send good luck texts though, when he knows Haruna has games. Mihashi wants to be a nice person too.

 

 

When he does extra pull-ups after practice, fingers curled tight around the cool metal bar, he thinks about how Haruna's back felt underneath his hand instead, soft and strong and capable of carrying his team like a true ace.

Knowing exactly what he wants makes Mihashi work that much harder.

 

 

Haruna invites him out when they have both some time off around the school holidays. Mihashi's twitchy the entire bike ride to the park, quietly wondering if he should've said no, or if Takaya is going to shout at him for spending his time with Haruna instead of studying for upcoming exams, or if he's going to make an idiot of himself.

When he arrives, Haruna is there already, waving him over and talking a hundred miles a minute. It makes up for how skittish and quiet Mihashi is at first, until he settles, and they can have more of a conversation.

It gives him a warm feeling in his chest, and maybe, they can be better friends.

 

 

"So, how's practice going at Nishiura?"

Mihashi blinks, a little dumbfounded. Besides a few passing things here or there, neither of them have brought up baseball. It felt like an unspoken rule not to. "G-Good."

"Just good?" Haruna laughs, "I thought you guys were aiming for Koshien too, it should be better than that! Or maybe that old stick in the mud of a catcher is keeping you down?"

"No!" he shakes his head, lips warbling around his careful retort. "Everyone, is, working very hard, especially, Abe-kun."

"Hmph, still, that doesn't sound good enough." The grin on Haruna's face cuts razor sharp across his face in a blink; "I'm gonna wipe the floor with you guys if that's all you got!"

Mihashi stops in his tracks, shoulders stiffening. Haruna surely is trying to joke with him, after all he _is_ a good person, it wouldn't be like him to be so cruel about something so important intentionally. But it doesn't change the fact that he feels the warmth disappear right out of his bones, cut away with such precision from a few careless words.

"No." Mihashi doesn't let the volume of his voice stop it's conviction.

"No?" Haruna looks like he's at the verge of laughing, "C'mon Mihashi, there's only one mound at Koshien, and I'm gonna be the one standing on it."

"We'll win." Like the sun will rise, and the leaves change color, like he will go home every night worked to the bone and then think about pitching some more. "We'll, not just, win a-against Haruna-san too. We..."

No, no, Haruna was right.

There's only one mound at Koshien, and there's no one to hide behind when you stand on it. Mihashi looks up, summons every ounce of spine his team built back up in him vertebra by vertebra to keep him standing once again.

"I'll be the one, at Koshien. And I... I'll beat everyone, s-so I can, be the only one who gets to stand there. To pitch."

It's odd, watching the confidence fall out of Haruna's smile, to watch him back off from Mihashi's statement.

 

 

Mihashi kind of likes it.

 

 

(A terrible thing, he'll think later, but Haruna-san was always the better person.)


	2. mihashi/abe - drunk confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mihashi/Abe: Remember when Mihashi got tipsy and admitted his feelings for Abe?

No one is sure exactly where the alcohol at the team's Christmas party came from (surely someone will blame Yuu, but Mihashi gets the feeling it wasn't him up to pranks this time), but it was there, and if it's there, it means having to try it. Sometimes you just need to _know._

  
  
Mihashi decides quickly that the taste is awful, but the warm tingle through his muscles is kind of nice, if not a little strange. He wiggles in place, feeling a bit like jello as he watches Mizutani and Hama-chan try to drag Izumi into a round of karaoke. There's the telltale red spread across their cheeks too, and Mihashi is glad he's taken his spot up against the wall. He doesn't want to be pulled into that mess, if he can avoid it. Loose muscles don't just mean his arms and legs.  
  
When he leans over, his head finds Abe's shoulder. Abe hasn't left his side all night, something about "there's no _way_ I'm letting our _ace_ get _drunk_ and lose his abilities or get _hurt_ because you _dumbasses_." Not that it mattered in the end, when both of them had drinks shoved into their hands and Abe ended up following suit after watching Mihashi throw his back. The thought of it makes Mihashi smile to himself.  
  
Or not. "You okay Ren?"  
  
 _Ren._ It still makes his heart skip an unhealthy beat to hear his name on Abe's lips. "More than, okay."  
  
"Yeah? You sure you don't want water, you should stay hydrated, or you'll get sick."  
  
Mihashi shakes his head, shifting so he can keep his cheek on Abe's shoulder and look up at him at the same time. When he squints, he can see the red in his cheeks too, hidden behind his baseball tan. "You're the best, A...   
  
...Takaya."  
  
There's a pause, and then, "C-Come on, let me get you water." Takaya is trying to move, but Mihashi makes himself a rock, keeping him in place with his head and the hand that sneaks to his side to grip his shirt.  
  
"I mean it." Mihashi says softly, eyes drifting shut as he thinks of the hundreds of times Takaya's been there for him, doing things no one else would think to do, even if he did get mad or upset or confusing from time to time. "I really, really do."  
  
"Seriously, Ren, you're drunk."   
  
"'nd you're so warm." Mihashi hums, nuzzling closer into the curve of Takaya's shoulder, "I like it."  
  
"Ren--"  
  
"I like _you._ "  
  
  
Takaya freezes, for a few seconds, for a minute, he can't remember, but when he looks down, tries to say something, Mihashi is already asleep, slack and soft and perfect.


	3. abe&mihashi&haruna - everybody is afraid of pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/13854.html?thread=4981278#cmt4981278

when he crouches down, sees a pitcher on the mound, it doesn't matter that he is small shouldered and blond and shakes with nerves abe has yet to understand. abe knows better. knows that one baseball is exactly one hundred and forty five grams, twenty three centimeters across, and when thrown at over a hundred kilometers an hour it holds the force to turn his skin into the nastiest shades of black and blue. padding is good, it can work, but those curve balls knicked him across the soft parts of his arms and legs with a mind of their own, and no amount of working out can harden a boy's stomach enough to keep the vomit down when it hits just above the belt.

  
(once upon a time, abe's father taught him the fun in baseball, how to catch and throw and bat, and how he would smile and tell him there was no better time to get some color in your skin than from a summertime tan on the playing field.  
  
abe is sure the colors his father had in mind were not shades of vibrant indigo and fading gaunt yellow, so he does his best to keep all of it hidden so his father keeps smiling at him.)

  
  
there's a long moment before mihashi starts his wind-up - a quiet thing, controlled but ready, and yet all abe can think of is the stupid afterimage that's stuck in his nightmares. it's a wild right arm, high kicked leg, exaggerated movements to gain the momentum of a perfect pitch in each throw, but mostly it's the way cold brown eyes stared him down like he is, was, _was_ nothing. it still freezes him to his core.  
  
it is nothing, he tells himself, that was in the past and this isn't him, it's different, it will be different, he'll make it different with every single thing he does over the thirty nine centimeters of home plate or so help him--  
  
mihashi pitches.  
  
abe catches.  
  
that's all there is to it - there's no pain, no sharp pang of bile at the back of his throat, no bruises or blood or worries of getting yelled at. just the perfect sound of one standard size baseball hitting the center of his mitt.  
  
his body quietly crumples from relief, taking the ball from his mitt and looking up at mihashi eighteen meters away, the afternoon sun coming down behind his shoulders.  
  
abe wonders if it's always supposed to feel warm in the catcher's spot.


	4. mihashi/abe - something to remember me by

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Package: small plain box, wrapped in a cloth with a cute pattern. rattles a little when shaken. There's a note, written in a slightly shaky hand  
> To: Abe  
> From: Mihashi  
> Note: So you don't... f-forget me.

Abe has no idea when Ren slipped the red and white package into his luggage - the last time he saw Ren was the night before he left for university. They spent the night curled together on the futon in his room, Abe taking in the soft feel of Ren's hair against his cheek, the strength of his arm around his waist, the exact feel of his fingertips as they danced along his spine, the golden shimmer of his eyes, and just, Ren in general. He'd been the center of Abe's attention that whole night (and all the time, but that's another story). He can't think of a time when Ren would've slipped away to put the box in with his things.  
  
 _So you don't forget me_ , the note reads, and Abe snorts out loud in the quiet of his dorm room. "As if." Who just forgets about the person who changed the way he viewed the world at large so intensely in three years that he can never see a space without Ren in it?  
  
Not to mention, even if Ren didn't mean the sun and the stars to him, Abe wouldn't be able to forget about him. The only reason they weren't going to university together is because by the time they were in Koshien their third year an entire section of bleachers was dedicated to the scouts who were looking at Ren to go pro as soon as he was done with high school. And of course Ren took it. He had to take it, it would be stupid not to, as Abe told him once, twice, a thousand times over.   
  
It helped that Tajima got signed to the same team, and Hanai is on track to get called up next.  
  
Abe shakes his head, trying not to think about that part. It sucks that he wasn't even considered, not in the same way as the others, but he'll make it there. Somehow, someway, he'll get there.  
  
But that's not for a ways, he knows it, he's still unpacking his first dorm room in Tokyo and trying to figure out classes and what exactly is in the little box.  
  
He opens it as delicately as he can so he can keep the cloth, and opens up the box.   
  
Abe's eyes go wide.  
  
There's pictures, little snapshots from their first year until graduation, there's Ren's medal for when he won MVP for the Saitama regionals at the start of their second year, a keychain baseball mitt from the Koshien gift shop, and a calendar for the listed games for the Saitama Lions. No single thing is major, but together in the little box, it's everything.  
  
It takes a long time for him to calm his hands down from shaking, to pick up the phone, and give Ren a call.  
  
He deserves so much more than that, but it's a start.


	5. mihashi/abe - branded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm still not quite used to it, having someone touch you because they want to touch you."  
> Hannah Johnson, Know Not Why

hands are like brands, mihashi thinks.  
  
he thinks of his mothers, how they run through the soft whisps of his hair, how he remembers how she's been there from the way a certain tuft sticks up a certain way. he thinks of kanou's, who showed him a few tricks on how to hold the ball for a good pitch when baseballs were bigger than their fists.  
  
he remembers hatake's hands, how they would stay still behind home plate, cutting mihashi open, so later when those same hands slammed into the lockers he didn't have to touch skin to crush his heart. he remembers how the whole team followed suit.  
  
whether they meant to or not, the marks are left behind, and even distant memories mihashi still carries them with him.

  
  
he tries not to, he really does, but such a thing is easier said than done.

  
  
"sorry," it's late, they're at training camp, mihashi should be sleeping, not desperately reaching out for takaya. he curls back on himself, hands balled and hidden away. " 'm sorry."  
  
"ren." takaya says, soft and firm, like his hands as they cup his chin. "ren, look at me. please."  
  
this touch is new, no one's held him quite like this, and mihashi stares with wide open eyes, taking in the way takaya's gaze darts across his face.  
  
"it's... it's okay, if you want to touch."   
  
mihashi's hands curl and uncurl in his sleep shirt, and he can feel the damp start of sweat from takaya's palm.  
  
"r...really?"  
  
"yeah, really." there's a scrunch in takaya's nose and brow, the one he gets when he tries not to scowl. "it's nice, when you do it."  
  
his words escape with his breath with no signs of returning, leaving mihashi with nothing but to stare at takaya for a long time, to take in the moment that this, it's not bad, that takaya won't hurt him. that this is okay.  
  
he presses his cheek into takaya's hand, and slowly mirrors the motion with his own hand. it's takaya's turn to inhale through his teeth, a motion mihashi feels in the set of his jaw more than he hears.  
  
"i, like it, when, it's takaya too."  
  
there's another huff, and their foreheads are pressed together before he can figure if it was a laugh or a sigh ( probably a laugh, if takaya is willingly so close to him like this, ) and then warm calloused hands are through his hair ( he'll remember the feeling of in the morning beneath his baseball cap ) across the sensitive skin down to his hands ( ones that give him a new kind of direction around the pitch ) and the touches are so soft, so sincere, that even no where near his chest his heart still flips ( as if to ease him back to a time when his heart was a protected little thing ).  
  
their shaking hands are clasped beneath the sheets, breathes shared, the world around them shifted to fit what they need.  
  
"if this isn't okay, just tell me, okay? i don't... i won't be someone who hurts you."  
  
hands are like brands, mihashi thinks, but maybe some are built for recovery.  
  
"thank you" mihashi whispers, and hopes that when he presses his lips to takaya's cheek, he's helping him too.


	6. mihashi/abe - horrible terrible awful family time ft. shun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why did you eat his wee-wee?"  
> \--unknown doujin

Of all the horrific, terrible, awful, insanely embarrassing ways to die, Abe did not anticipate this would be the one to get him at the tender young age of 17.

  
  
Even worse, given the impressive shade of blotchy red on his face and the way his mouth is stammering around nothing, he's fairly certain that Ren is about to choke or have a stroke or both. That definitely can't happen, he still has Koshien to go to and the world to impress with the amazing pitching. Ren dying over this is off the table.  
  
The question now is how does he save either of them from the fact Shun just asked the most disgusting question right at the table when his father is just on the other side of the kitchen? He hasn't moved, or said anything, thank _god_ , but Abe is sure he heard it. Shun is a little shit and definitely said it loud enough.

  
  
Plan #1: Play dumb and change the subject.  
  
"What are you talking about you dumb runt!?" Abe scowls, kicking Shun under the table. "Don't ask stupid stuff when you don't even know what you're talking about. Shouldn't you be worrying about your homework or your stupid water emblem game?"  
  
"Ow, mean!" Shun pulls his leg up and holds it gingerly. "And it's FIRE emblem, jeez, get it right."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"And I do know what I'm talking about, I saw you with his face all up in it!"  
  
Okay, plan #1 has blown up in his face, and Ren is certainly about to melt through the floor into the foundation of the house. Time for a change of plans, something that could truly make Shun shut up and save them (or at least Ren, he can take this fall) from complete annihilation in the face of their own awkward sexual exploits.  
  
(Seriously, how did Shun see them, he's _sure_ he locked the door and made sure everyone else was asleep before they started smooching and touching and trying out things with his boyfriend at least 95% of teenage boys with boyfriends think about.)

  
  
No, no, no thinking about that. Thinking about the new plan as of right now.

  
  
Plan #2: Murder  
  
Look. If he's going down, Shun is coming with him.  
  
"You little _shit!_ " Abe jumps to his feet, rushing around the table as Shun shrieks and scrambles out of his chair. "No you get back here right now, how _dare_ you!"  
  
"The wee-wee eater is gonna get me, no no!!" Shun scream-laughed as he ran for the front door, Abe's shouting filling every empty space in the house until they made it outside, their shouting getting further and further away in the yard.

  
  
  
  
Mihashi kept his face hidden in his hands, looking out to the now-open front door. If there was a time to run, it would be now.  
  
"So." Takaya's father broke the momentary silence, "Is he any good?"  
  
The horrific question caught so hard off guard he slammed his face into the table with a horrified squawk.  
  
This was the worst dinner with Abe's family _ever_.


End file.
